Take Me Instead
by StormcloudPercival13
Summary: What if America had gotten to the platform? What if she'd volunteered to take Carter and Marlee's places? Takes place during The Elite. Rated T for language and gore. All rights go to Kiera Cass.
1. Thirty Lashes

America POV

The black dress. The crowd. The stage. No one died. No one is dead. But Marlee isn't with the rest of us. I don't know where she is. All I know is that this feeling of unease in my stomach isn't going away.

A masked man walks onto the platform and looks at the document in his hands. He starts speaking, and at first I don't understand, but then everything snaps into place. Marlee and Carter are getting caned. Publicly. Fifteen lashes each.

Without thinking, I stand up. Marlee and Carter are already on the platform, but neither's punishment has begun yet.

And it isn't going to happen.

I sprint to the stage, abandoning my heels along the way. I manage to get to the stairs before a guard catches up to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and tries to drag me away.

"I'll take their punishment!" I screech as the man calls out the first lash. Everyone on the platform freezes. The Royal Family's eyes all snap to me. Maxon is shaking his head desperately. Queen Amberly is frowning but nods in admiration, apparently proud of my proclamation and sacrifice. And King Clarkson… he's smiling, cold and predatory.

"What do you mean, you'll take their punishment?" he laughs, sneering at me. "They've committed treason. You wish for them to walk away unharmed?"

I raise my chin, staring the king in the eyes. "I will take their combined thirty lashes. Let them go. Make them Eights if you must, but I will take the physical punishment," I say, being sure to project my voice so everyone can hear me.

The King's smile freezes, but he leans back and nods his head. "Very well."

I walk up the remaining stairs onto the stage. "I will take every lash on my back," I state, eyeing the contraption nervously. But I worry that if I take the more minor punishment of only my hands being caned, the king will decide it's not enough and still hurt Marlee and Carter.

The king nods, seemingly fascinated by my request. "As you wish," he says.

I am hung by my wrists on the ladder-like structure Carter was hanging from just minutes ago. The back of my dress is unzipped and it falls to my ankles, and I'm grateful for the thin undershirt protecting my decency. Aside from that and my undergarments, I am naked. Maxon is still shaking his head, and I glare at him. You did this, I mouth. No one else caught it, but Maxon's face crumples. The first lash is called out.

"One!"

It hurts like a bitch, but I keep my face neutral. I don't make a single sound.

"Two!"

The second breaks skin—I feel it split, and the blood drips down my back slowly. Again, though, I stay quiet.

"Three!"

I suck in a breath, but swallow back the whimper that threatens to rip itself from my throat.

"Four!"

The man holding the cane hesitates for a moment, but inevitably does what he's payed to do. I smile tightly at him as he pulls the cane back again. He's wearing a mask too. "It's okay," I tell him. "I'll be fine. Do your worst."

"Five!"

The man doesn't hold back. I see May crying in the front row. "I'm alright May," I call to her. "I'm going to be fine."

"Six!"

The cane comes down hard. The blood isn't trickling down my back anymore—it's a steady stream of gore.

"Seven!"

I grunt, closing my eyes. I hear my family begging me to end this, to let Marlee and Carter take their punishment and leave. But I will not stand by and allow two people to suffer for being in love.

"Eight!"

I notice suddenly that the entire audience except for my family, Aspen, and Maxon are entirely silent, watching in respectful silence. Queen Amberly has tears running down her face.

"Nine!"

The queen is murmuring something, trying to send me a nonverbal message, but my sight has become foggy from the pain. I can't read her lips.

"Ten!"

Just twenty more to go.

"Eleven!"

I almost don't feel the cane anymore. My back is still on fire, but I'm getting used to the pain. I don't really feel anything other than the searing agony in my back, and even that is becoming more tolerable.

"Twelve!"

"America, please!" May sobs. She's clutching on to my father, holding his arm like a tourniquet. He's crying too, his other arm wrapped comfortingly around my mother.

"Thirteen!"

"America!" Maxon calls to me, his face tearstained. "You don't have to do this. Please, I'll do anything, just stop this madness!" I shake my head.

"Fourteen!"

I choke back a strangled sob. I will not let the king see me cry. He doesn't get that satisfaction.

"Fifteen!"

Halfway there. My head slumps forward, and I gasp for air. But I only give myself a moment to recover. I hold my head high again, letting my gaze fall over every person in the crowd. They will know that you cannot beat me. They will know just how strong I am. And they will know that I will never stand for this violence.

"Sixteen!"

I huff with the effort of staying conscious. I have to have lost quite a bit of blood by now. My vision is going in and out of focus, and I'm struggling to keep myself from slipping into the comfort of sleep.

"Seventeen!"

Maxon starts to stand, but I shake my head at him, ignoring the dizziness it invokes. I watch him sit back down, perched on the edge of his seat, ready to rush to my side at a moment's notice.

"Eighteen!"

I realize suddenly that Marlee and Carter are both still present. Marlee is tucked into Carter's arms, sobbing, watching in horror as I'm torn to shreds in their places. Carter's look is pained and remorseful. I get the feeling he wants to help me, take the rest of the punishment, but is too afraid to leave Marlee's side. I don't blame him.

"Nineteen!"

Logically, it's probably only been a few minutes. But it feels as though I've been up here for hours, fighting the screams that want to rip themselves from my throat.

"Twenty!"

Just ten more. I can do it. I'm America Singer. No way in hell am I letting the king win this.

"Twenty-one!"

I force my head up and gaze down at the sea of people. Even though I'm upset with him, I still love Maxon. Undeniably so. If I haven't ruined everything by being so openly defiant, one day these will be my people. I need to show them just how strong I can be.

"Twenty-two!"

I smile comfortingly down at Marlee. "I'm okay, Mar," I call weakly. I know she hears me. She calms down slightly at the sound of my voice. "I'd take this ten times over for a friend like you."

"Twenty-three!"

May is watching me, tears still streaming down her face, but calmer. Honestly, she looks like she's a little bit in awe of me right now.

"Twenty-four!"

My entire body feels like it's burning. It hurts. But I'm so close. So close. It's almost over.

"Twenty-five!"

Just five more. Just five more. So close. So close.

"Twenty-six!"

Almost over. It's nearly through.

"Twenty-seven!"

I fight to keep my eyes open. I have to stay awake.

"Twenty-eight!"

Two more.

"Twenty-nine!"

Last one. Then I can sleep. Stay awake for the last one, America.

"THIRTY!" the speaker bellows.

It's over. I'm released from the bonds, and I collapse to the floor, unable to hold myself up any longer. A pair of strong arms encircle me and I scream as they brush against my bloodied back. The skin is shredded, that much I know. Maxon winces at the sound of my pain. He places a featherlight kiss on my hairline.

"I know, my love, I know," he murmurs. I am lifted painfully from the ground and placed on a gurney that I hadn't noticed arrive.


	2. It Hurts

America POV

I'm rushed to the hospital wing, a steady stream of tears flowing down my face. It hurts so badly. Everything does. My body, my mind, my _heart_. My best friend was gone. Or she would be soon. I might never see Marlee again. And my body, oh, it burns. It feels like alcohol in a cut times ten-million on my back. I know the skin has to be dangling from my back at this point, if it hasn't already fallen off. And my head aches from trying to stay awake and understand the chaos around me.

I'm suddenly lifted off the gurney and transferred to a new surface; this one seems to be an operating table. I moan in agony. My head feels heavy and I can't think properly. I hear someone murmuring to me, whispering that I'll be alright, that the doctors are going to help me. I want to yell at the person, tell them I know how a doctor works and that I'm not a baby. But my mouth can't seem to form the words, and I don't have the energy to yell. Instead, I grunt in response.

The owner of the voice, the one that was trying to comfort me, backs away. I feel the doctors cluster around me. And suddenly, a whole new pain rips through my body.

They're cleaning the gashes.

I scream, my voice hoarse and cracked. I almost try to kick away the offending hands, but the fire in my back stops me. I lay, immobile, on the table as my back is cleaned and treated.

* * *

Maxon POV

I shiver as I see the fight drain out of America. She stops struggling and lays still for the doctors cleaning and dressing her wounds. I let out a dry chuckle to myself at the morbid thought that pops into my head.

_We're matching now._

My stomach churns and I turn away. Is that what I look like after my father punishes me? I don't think it's ever been that bad. I believe the most lashes I've ever gotten at one time was ten. America took that three times over.

My heart aches to comfort her, but the doctors need space so she can be treated properly.

Slowly, reluctantly, I leave the room and go back to my suite.

I jerk back to reality when I hear a knock on my door. I had been worrying about America. I stand up and try to smooth out my rumpled appearance, but to no avail. Oh, well, who cares anyway?

I open my door and see Kriss.

"Oh!" she says. "Hi. I, um, I made you a card… because, I thought you might—I don't know—need some cheering up? I just… yeah. So, I'll just give you your card and be on my way, I guess."

I try to smile at her kindness, but I know my face must look closer to a grimace. "Thank you," I say, my voice just a little quieter than usual. I realize that it's probably rude to just leave her standing outside my room. "Please, come in and have a seat," I invite, stepping aside to allow Kriss entry to my bedroom. She smiles gratefully and steps into my abode.

"I'm sorry about America," she says as I close the door. "You must have been so scared. And… if I may note, she looked rather angry. May I ask why this is?"

I sigh. "I didn't get a chance to explain to her that I was trying to do what I saw was best. I couldn't sentence those two to death. I tricked myself into thinking a caning was merciful. I should have known better. And I think I understand why America in particular was so upset. Marlee was her best friend here, I think. That," I say, "and she knew a boy, back in her hometown, who was whipped in the town square for stealing food. She said he was only nine. I think it hurt her to see that that was going to happen to her friend. Even more than it hurt her physically to take their punishment."

Kriss nods in understanding. "I did notice that America and Marlee were close. Marlee is this bubbly, happy person. She always made me want to smile when she was around. I can see why America cares about her so much," she says thoughtfully. "America was very brave going up there today. Standing up to your father like that. It clearly wasn't the smartest choice, but it was admirable."

I smile. "That's my America," I mumble. I rake my hand through my hair and give myself a second to be not okay.

Kriss rubs my back gently, and I let myself let out a soft cry for my love. She's hurt, and it's my fault. I glance over at Kriss, and her face is so sympathetic and understanding that I feel all my walls break down. My face crumples and I hug her. I let her comfort me, because it's what I need.

"Thank you," I whisper. "For the card. For your kind words. Just, thank you."

* * *

America POV

Maxon left a while ago. I'm all patched up. And drugged up. I'm on painkillers and antibiotics. I'm laying on my stomach on a bed in the hospital wing. I listen in silence as shoes click past my cot, as nurses tend to kitchen staff with burns or cuts from cooking, or guards with pulled muscles or sprained joints from training.

I listen and listen, because there's nothing else to do.

But then I hear a magical sound. A noise that is truly beautiful.

"America?" a voice squeaks.

"May?" I ask.

My little sister rushes over to me and kisses my face. "Oh, you're okay! You were so courageous going up there! I'm so proud that you're my sister," she says, her words rushing out.

"May," I grunt, "Where are Mom and Daddy?"

May frowns. I can tell just from how her voice sounds when she says, "Mom is talking to the queen, and Daddy is trying to call Kenna and Kota."

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. "Why is he calling Kota?" I ask.

May sighs. "I know he's been a jerk, but we're still his little sisters. He'll be worried about you when he hears the news. Dad wants to explain what happened to them before the media twists it up."

"Good luck getting to Kota before the media does," I grumble.

May hums her agreement, but doesn't say anything more. Instead, she twists her fingers into mine and brushes my fiery hair out of my face.

We stay like that for a while before I finally fall asleep.

* * *

**A/N: Hi there! It's Riley, aka StormcloudPercival13. I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed my story. If you don't read my other current story, _Damaged_, then you most likely didn't see my A/N on that one. So thank you all. For just being so sweet and saying such nice things. It really made my day.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	3. Will You?

Maxon POV

Kriss left soon after, but not before giving me a gentle kiss on the cheek. "She'll be alright, Maxon. She's stronger than any of us know," she said. And I know she's right.

America—my hot-headed, fiery America—is far too stubborn to let this deter her. She's determined to make a difference, and if that means taking thirty lashes in front of the whole country, I have no doubt she would do it hundreds of more times. She's just amazing like that. She'd rather suffer than let someone else feel that pain. She tries to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

I push away from my desk abruptly. Without even thinking twice, I start running toward the hospital wing.

America tries to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders.

_Just as a true queen does._

* * *

America POV

May left about a half-hour ago. She said that Sylvia told her and my parents that the families of the Elite are being sent home. The only reason mine is still here is because I'm the one who was beaten to a pulp in front of an audience.

I'm nearly drifting off to sleep when someone bursts through the infirmary doors. I immediately try to sit up to see who has arrived so frantically, but a shock of pain shoots through my back. I cry out and fall back down.

"America!" Maxon exclaims when he hears my yelp. He reaches my cot, and his hands flutter around me, unsure of what to do. "What hurts? What do you want me to do?"

"I'm fine," I huff, "I'm okay."

"Are you sure?" Maxon asks warily.

"I'm sure," I answer. I slowly lift myself up so I can sit properly, facing Maxon. "What's up? What're you doing here?"

He hesitates. "America…" he starts.

"I'm going home, aren't I?" I ask.

"What?"

"Because I was so outwardly disobedient. I'm going home, right?"

Maxon laughs out loud at this. "Of course not!" he says, "I'm here to tell you how much I admire your bravery. That's not something just anyone would do. My father is probably furious that you managed to outsmart him, but aside from that, you've done nothing wrong."

I feel myself relax. "Okay," I breathe. I look up at Maxon. "Why are you here, then?"

Maxon's face turns red. "Well… I wanted to explain myself to you. I know how cruel it seems that I would put a person through what you went through. But my father planned to have them killed. I… I couldn't let them die. Marlee was your friend—is your friend—and I knew her too. She was sweet and friendly, and I trust she must really love Carter if she took that risk. I wanted them to be happy together, as I want all of these girls to end up happy. Like I want you to be happy, with or without me. I really hope it's _with_, though, and not _without_."

I watch in shock as Maxon gets down on one knee before me.

"Will you, America Singer, take me as your husband? Let me hold you and love you more than any man has ever loved a woman? Will you stay by my side, be my best friend, my confidante, my _dear_—" I snort at the endearment— "as I wish to be yours?

"America Singer, _will you marry me_?"

* * *

**A/N: Haha! I'm so evil. Sorry for the cliffhanger, not to mention the short and ****_late_**** chapter. I should be back on normal schedule this week. Till next time, lovelies.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	4. The Truth

America POV

I stare at Maxon, speechless. _ Marry him?_

He must sense my hesitation, because he drops his gaze and blushes. "Or not, if you're not ready," he says quietly, and I can hear the hurt clearly in his voice. He stands up and starts to turn away, but I force myself to my feet and grab his jacket sleeve.

He looks back at me, and I smile. "Took you long enough to ask, you goofball," I whisper, my eyes watering with tears of joy. I pull Maxon toward me and press my mouth to his. I can sense every ounce of love he has for me all in that one kiss, and I pour my entire heart into him.

But Maxon wraps his arms around me to hold me closer, and I break away, hissing in pain. My legs crumple beneath me and Maxon has to catch me before I hit the ground.

Maxon gasps in surprise and apology. "Oh, no. America, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking, and I just… I'm sorry," he finishes in a whisper.

"I'm… I'm okay," I grit out between my teeth. I let Maxon help me back onto the cot and lie on my stomach. I furrow my brow and attempt to concentrate on my breathing instead of the fire raking down my back. After a few minutes, it starts to dull again. "Alright. I'm okay now."

Maxon frowns and brushes his hand through my hair. "I wish I could take away your pain," he mumbles. "This wasn't ever supposed to happen to you."

I shake my head slightly. "It wasn't your fault Maxon. Someone was getting punished today. I'd rather it be me than two innocent people. Marlee and Carter didn't deserve it."

"And you did?" he objects.

I sigh. "As a matter of fact, _yes_. I've broken laws, Maxon. I've thought rebellious thoughts. I've wanted to change the country. I hate your father," I whisper. "I despise the king and the way he rules. I want it to change. I want to change it. I want _us_ to change it."

Maxon sits quietly while I speak.

"I'm a crappy candidate for queen, I know that. But I can learn. I have so many ideas, Maxon. But mostly, I want to be your wife. I wasn't sure before. And I need you to know the truth. He's here, Maxon. The boy who held my heart. He visits me. We're friends, like we were before we started dating. And I'm telling you these things because I'm so in love with you. Because I want you to see how much I love you, and take me by my word when I tell you that. I don't want to hide things from you."

Maxon's face darkens slightly. But it's not entirely drawn, and that gives me hope.

"Who is he?" he chokes out.

I suck in a sharp breath. "Aspen Leger," I confess.

Maxon's brow furrows. "I…" he trails off. He looks upset, and I start to try to sit up so I can face him properly, but he holds my wrist gently to keep me in place.

"Maxon, please don't do anything to him. He's his family's only real supporter. His brother is the one I told you about. Jemmy. They could barely feed themselves before he became a guard. They're sixes, Maxon. They won't survive without him," I plead.

Maxon shakes his head. "No. No, I would never do that. I… I trust you. I'm sure… Aspen… is a good man, if he has your trust," he says slowly.

I sigh in relief. "Thank you. I love you so much," I say, tears pricking at my eyes. "And of course I want to marry you… I never gave you a direct answer, earlier. But yes. Yes, I will marry you."

Maxon frowns. "Wait, America. I… I think I might need some time to process all of this. I just… I'm sorry. Just give me a little time to sort everything out."

Did he just…

_Take back his proposal?_

* * *

**A/N: So... umm? *hides face from angry mob* I'm not exactly sure how this came about... I just kind of wrote what came to mind and... well, sh*t went down in this chapter. I did change the original idea that America hides Aspen until the truth is forced out. Feel free to roast me in the reviews. Sorry again, not sure what happened. Oh, and sorry for the shorter chapter. Was low on time and inspiration.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	5. A Talk

Maxon POV

Did I just…

_Take back my proposal?_

I give America a gentle kiss on her temple before leaving the room. Of course I still love her! I can't let her think I don't! But I just found out that the man America rejected me for in the beginning of this entire thing has been here for God-knows-how-long and meeting with her in private. She pushed me away in the beginning because of him.

I almost want to cry from how frustrating it all is. I want to trust America when she says they're only friends. I want to believe that every part of her heart belongs to me—with the exception of the part reserved for her family, of course.

But it's so hard.

I think I need to have a discussion with this 'Aspen Leger' fellow.

* * *

I find him eventually. It took asking quite a few palace guards where I could find him, and a few turnarounds due to post rotations. But I found him.

He's undeniably handsome. He has black hair and green eyes, and the injection all soldiers are given plus the regular exercise of guard training has made him incredibly lean and muscular. He's about the same height as me, maybe an inch or two taller.

He's standing post in the corridor outside the Women's Room with another guard.

"Officer Leger?" I ask.

He looks at me, and I see a brief flash of confusion before a mask of stony formality and respect settles over his features. He bows to me and steps forward. "How may I assist you, Your Highness?" he asks, and I swear I hear a drop of sarcasm in his voice.

"If I may speak with you in my office, sir?" I say, beckoning for him to follow me.

Officer Leger follows me and we enter my study, me closing the door behind us.

"Officer Leger," I start, "It has been brought to my attention recently that you've been meeting with one of the Selected girls. Lady America Singer. I'm not mad, but I'd appreciate it if you would stop meeting behind my back. I'm glad America has someone she clearly trusts and thinks so highly of here, especially after Miss Marlee was disqualified. I'm happy that she has a friend from home keeping an eye on her. But it doesn't look good for you to be sneaking around with her. You saw what almost happened to Miss Tames and Officer Woodwork. I don't want that to ever happen to America again, so I'm asking you to not put her in danger of that."

Aspen's face is stony. "Of course, Your Highness. I only feared that people would speak ill of Mer—er—_Lady America_ if she was seen speaking to me. Perhaps, if I'm not overstepping any bounds, you would allow us to walk together sometimes. I miss home, and America does too. It's nice to have someone to share the homesickness with. And she has… rather entertaining stories to tell about her life here," he says, trailing off with a smile slowly spreading over his features.

"I'll see if I can arrange that. But… I want to make it clear that I'm in love with America, and I intend to marry her eventually. I only want to be certain of her loyalty and that she's ready to take on the responsibility that will come with marrying me," I state bluntly. "I don't want you to be trying to rekindle the romance you two had before she left and you were drafted."

Officer Leger's face shows his shock plainly. "I-I… I wasn't—w-what… How did you…?"

I try to soften my features so I don't look too cruel or haughty. "America told me. I understand that first love isn't something you soon forget, but you made your choice and America made hers. I want you to be friends. I want _us_ to be friends. But not if you try to take America from me. If you do… well, things aren't as nice in New Asia as they are here."

Aspen stiffens. "Are you… _threatening me_?" he asks incredulously.

I frown, but it slowly turns into a smirk. "I suppose it would seem that way," I say coolly before walking out of my office and towards the dining hall for supper.

* * *

**A/N: Yeah... this is pretty bad, but I think I can make it work. This is quite a bit different from what happened in the actual book, but I don't want Maxon to go ape shit on Aspen like he did in the original. He's always so chill, so I just didn't think it would fit. I know it's late, and I'm so sorry, but please know that I love writing my fics, especially since I've been blessed with such amazing readers. Thank you all for reading and supporting me.**

**(Also, please, please, PLEASE check out my new story _Well, This is New_ and let me know if you guys are interested in it becoming an actual story)**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	6. The Queen

America POV

I open my eyes and see not Maxon, not Aspen, but Queen Amberly. Her hand is wrapped delicately around my own, and she's watching me with a calm expression on her face. She smiles kindly at me when she sees my eyes open.

"Your awake," she says softly, stating the obvious.

"I'm awake," I confirm, my voice a little scratchy.

Amberly's smile grows. "How are you feeling?"

I laugh drily. "Like I got beaten with a stick," I deadpan.

Her Majesty's smile disappears, replaced by an immense solemnity. "America, that was extraordinarily brave of you to do. I wish you hadn't had to go through that. But I admire you very much. I could never have done that. I don't think I'm strong enough. But you… you're a force of nature, America Singer. A force to be reckoned with. Keep that in mind, and never, ever change."

I can only nod in my surprise.

"If everything goes as I think it will, I know you'll make an excellent queen."

I'm even more dumfounded by that statement. "Your Majesty, you put too much faith in me," I argue. "I could never measure up to all that you've done."

The queen's face cracks. "Me?" she chuckles, "What have I done? Sat on a throne? Raised my son and loved my husband? I'm not as perfect or wonderful as our country seems to believe. You, on the other hand, you're going to change the world. You have big ideas, America. And you're going to do great things with those ideas. I have faith in you."

And then she leaves before I can change her mind.

* * *

**A/N: I'm so, so, so, so, sooooooooooo sorry for the short chapter. Once school is out for the year, I promise chapters will be longer an on a better updating time. Anyway, as always, thank you so much for reading and I'll see y'all next week.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	7. The Strength

America POV

Three days after the caning, I'm permitted to leave the medical ward without a wheelchair. I can walk again, and because I can walk, I'm allowed to return to Elite duties. Also known as being bored out of my mind as I wait for an assignment. Lucy, Anne, and Mary jumped on me the second I got back to my usual bedroom. They insisted on washing me and helping me replace the bandages on my back and getting me ready for lunch in the dining hall with the other girls and the royal family.

They dressed me in a loose-fitting day dress that hangs comfortably off my body. The soft, cottony material feels cool, like water running gently over my skin. My makeup, as minimal as ever, consists of a touch of blush, mascara, and lip gloss. I look at myself in the mirror as my maids release my hair from the braid they dried it in. My flaming locks flow over my shoulders and midway down my back in light waves. I wince when Lucy's fingers, while combing through my hair, accidentally brush over a tender spot on my back.

She gasps and pulls her hands away quickly. "I'm so sorry, Lady America!" she cries, already starting to tremble, "I-I didn't mean to!"

I turn around and take Lucy's hands in my own. "Shh, no, no. It's okay! I'm fine. It didn't even hurt that bad. I'm just a little sore, that's all. Please, don't worry," I soothe. I brush my thumbs over her knuckles calmly, trying to ease her shaking. I pull her forward and tuck her into my arms as I would May. I let her take deep breaths until she's calm and her hands have steadied.

Mary and Anne finish with my hair while I have Lucy sit in front of me so I can play with her golden locks.

When I'm finished, I stand and thank my maids.

"You girls are a godsend," I say with a smile. "I don't know how I would've managed this last week without you three. Thank you."

The girls curtsy and wave as I leave the room to walk down to lunch. I stagger down the steps awkwardly—who knew stairs required so many muscles in your back? —and finally stand in the doorway to the hall. I'm a few minutes late, what with my hobbling around, so I curtsy as quickly and gracefully as I can with the stitches crisscrossing over my entire back, and scurry to a seat near Elise. She's been the least animistic of all the Elite, aside from Kriss, so I feel safe enough to speak quietly with her through the meal.

"How are you feeling?" she asks politely.

I almost shrug, but catch myself before I tear anything. "I'm better than I was," I state simply. "It's sore, but nothing too unbearable."

Elise nods solemnly. "I'm glad to hear."

Natalie leans a little closer to me from across the table. "America, how did you do that?" she asks abruptly.

"…Do what?" I ask slowly.

"Stay conscious during your caning!" she squeaks. "I've heard some gossip among the maids, and they've been saying that some battle-hardened soldiers couldn't have done what you did!"

I shake my head. "I'm too stubborn for my own good. I really wanted to prove that I understood what I was doing and show that friendship and protecting those you care about gives you the strength to do anything," I murmur.

* * *

Maxon POV

I smile when America walks into the dining room. She sits down near Elise and Natalie, and I can hear snippets of their conversation. Something that America says makes me swell with pride.

"I'm too stubborn for my own good. I really wanted to prove that I understood what I was doing and show that friendship and protecting those you care about gives you the strength to do anything."

I see her eyes flash to me and quickly tug on my ear.

My heart sinks when she hesitates before tugging hers back.

But it's better than her ignoring me.

* * *

America POV

I wait in my room after lunch for Maxon. I don't know what to expect, and it scares me. I used to know him so well, but after the caning, something changed. I'm doubting myself more and more when I wonder about his goals and feelings and morals. I know it's partially my fault. I hurt him when he found out about Aspen. And it wasn't even the whole truth, which I hate myself for.

I soft knock on my door startles me out of my thoughts. I stand up quickly, but hiss in pain when the movement agitates my back. Maxon walks in a moment later, not bothering to wait for me to open the door for him.

Some things never change, I suppose.

"America, I spoke to Officer Leger," he says, not even bothering to say 'hello' first.

I feel my muscles tense. "You _what_?" I ask, certain I must have heard wrong.

"I spoke with Officer Leger," he repeats, walking over to me and taking my hands in his own. "I want you to now that there's no need to sneak around. Aspen and I talked, and we agreed that occasional walks in the garden, or just talking on his off hours was perfectly reasonable. I want you to feel safe and welcome here, and that will be easier if you have the freedom to spend time with an old friend from home."

I smile and relax. "Thank you," I whisper. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

And he doesn't. _I_ didn't even understand how much I valued Aspen's friendship until I thought I would lose it. He's the closest thing to home I have right now, and I don't know what I would do if that was taken away from me.

Maxon brings my hands up to his lips and brushes them across my knuckles. "Anything to make you happy, my dear," he breathes.

My heart flutters and I hug him, my arms wrapping loosely around his neck. He kisses my head and rests his hands gently on my hips, being careful to not touch my back at all.

"I love you," I say earnestly. "I hope you understand just how much I mean it."

* * *

**A/N: Before you all say anything, I know this is late. It was my last day of school yesterday, so that's where I was all morning, and I was sick, so once I got home, I ended up sleeping for the rest of the day. I'm feeling a little better today, luckily. I'm sorry for keeping you guys waiting, but here's the newest chapter. I hope you all enjoyed, and I'll see you all next week. As always, thank you so much for reading.**

**Also, shout out to Virtue01 who has been regularly reviewing this story, giving me words of encouragement and just being so sweet and thoughtful; every review of yours that I read brings a smile to my face.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	8. Where is She?

America POV

I'm walking in the garden with Aspen, when an alarm sounds.

I'm not in my best shape right now, and Aspen knows it, so without any hesitation, he turns around and hoists me onto his back. He runs.

I hold on tightly as we rush toward the palace doors, Aspen running faster than I would think possible with my extra weight. But he's stronger now. Well fed and physically fit. He's healthy.

I whimper once when I'm jostled violently from an awkward step, but I bite my tongue and stay quiet. Aspen finally gets me to an open saferoom door and rushes down with me. I see the familiar metal door at the bottom of the dark staircase and Aspen only slows down to give me to another guard. I'm taken into the royal saferoom and ushered over to a cot by Sylvia, who, after ensuring that I'm unharmed and not going to break down, scurries over to the King and Queen to give her official report on the wellbeing of the girls. I see Maxon sitting with Natalie, gently patting her back and soothing her as she shivers in anxiety.

Looking around I realize someone is missing. I count quickly and find that Elise is missing. She's the quietest of us all… someone who could easily be looked over or forgotten in a high stress situation.

Shooting to my feet, I rush toward the door and start banging on it. "Wait!" I cry out. But it's locked. No one's getting in, but more importantly, I'm not getting out.

King Clarkson shouts at me. "What in God's name do you think you're doing?" he bellows.

I turn around and meet his glare with my own wide, terrified gaze.

"Elise isn't in here," I whisper. I'm certain everyone hears me because of how silent it gets, and how stiff everyone is suddenly.

I watch as Sylvia counts and recounts the girls, her face draining of color as she realizes the gravity of the mistake she's made.

Maxon is at my side, now, and he's leading me back to my cot. He coaxes me to sit down and then wraps his arms around me. "She'll be alright. There are dozens, if not hundreds of other saferooms in the palace. And there are so many guards. They'll protect her, I promise." Every soothing word just worries me more. Elise was one of the few people I thought I could trust here. She's so elegant and proper, but she's kind, underneath all of that. She's gentle and poised and compassionate.

"Maxon, what if she gets hurt?" I breathe.

Kriss wanders over to us and sits on my other side. She takes one of my hands in both of her own and leans her head against mine. "Elise is too smart to get hurt. She's going to be just fine, America. I'm sure of it."

I nod with a sniff and wipe my eyes quickly. "You're right. Both of you. I'm worrying over nothing. She'll be fine," I repeat. I say it, over and over, in my head like a mantra. _She'll be fine, she'll be fine, she'll be fine_.

Elise is by no means my closest friend—not in the slightest.

But she's someone I trust and even if she is my '_competition_,' I want the best for her.

Queen Amberly speaks in hushed tones to her husband, and I see him reluctantly beckon a guard over.

I ended up falling asleep with Kriss, both of us leaning against one another, her head resting on mine and our shoulders pressed together.

Maxon had gone back to calming Natalie while Celeste dozed on a cot. Queen Amberly is watching over all of us calmly, and King Clarkson is reading over some papers in the corner.

I gently lift my head and blink the sleep out of my eyes. Kriss is still asleep, so I try to move as little as possible as I scan the room. Elise is still missing, I notice with a pang, but everyone else seems relatively calm about it.

Suddenly, a guard opens our saferoom and walks over to the King.

We are let out of the vault and back upstairs a matter of minutes later.

The palace is a mess. There are dark stains on the carpets, broken windows and mirrors, glass scattered over the floor.

We're sent straight to our rooms and told dinner will be brought to us.

I enter my room and my heart breaks when I see Lucy trembling on my bed with tears streaming down her face.

I rush to her side and wrap my arms around her tiny frame, wiping away the tears and kissing her temple. "Hey, shh, it's alright. We're right here. Just breathe, and listen to my voice. You'll be alright, you're safe now," I whisper to her. "I promise, I'm right here, Anne and Mary are right here. We won't leave you. We love you."

Lucy eventually calms down enough to stand and walk back to her quarters, and I have Mary accompany her. Anne draws a bath for me and helps me undress so I can wash up. She checks my stitches and gently rubs a soothing cream onto the marks. The sutures feel like they're pulling at my skin, but I ignore it until Anne clucks in dismay.

"You loosened some of the stitches from moving so much today. I'm sure it's fine, but after your bath, you should go down to the infirmary again. I'm sure it'll be fine if you just where a lounging dress and some flats to go down."

At this point, I'm pretty sure she's just mumbling to herself, so I climb carefully into the warm water and sit down. Anne gently rubs a soft washcloth over my back, using light hands and just enough pressure to clean my wounds. I'd be getting the stitches out sooner if the skin would just stop reopening. Alas, the back is one of the most problematic places to have such injuries, apparently. So instead I have to take special precautions and have them in for an extra week.

Anne helps me out of the tub once I'm finished bathing and dresses me in a grey-blue cotton t-shirt dress that reaches my knees, and a comfy pair of black flats before pinning my hair up into a messy-yet-somehow-still-elegant bun.

I thank her before starting the walk down to the hospital wing.

**A/N: Hiiii... so, yeah, it's late at night, but technically... it's still Friday. So I made the deadline. I know, I know. I'm terrible. But, in my defense, I was at my grandparents' house from Tuesday to Friday afternoon. Anyways, as always, thank you so much for reading. Also, do me a huge favor and check out and review my latest story idea, currently titled, ****_Well, This is New_****. I really need opinions on it and there is not a single review yet. It's kind of it's own story, so you really don't even need to be a part of the Naturals and Gallagher Girls fandoms.**

**Virtue01: I'm glad you liked my shout out, and thank you again for your kind words and lovely review. It really does brighten my day every time I see your screen name because I know you'll share something you like and/or offer feedback. It's something I really appreciate and I want to thank you again. Without you, I'd probably not even be that motivated to continue this story.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	9. A Visit with Doctor Ashlar

Maxon POV

I have a tingle. On the back of my neck…

America is nearby. I rush inside from the gardens and see her disappearing behind a corner. I rush after her and catch her walking into the medical wing.

Walking in, I hear a man speaking. "I need you to change so I can get a better look at those."

_Better look at what?_

I walk to the area the voice is coming from and see Doctor Ashlar handing America a white gown. He turns around to leave and sees me.

"Ah, Your Highness. I apologize, but I need you to please leave so Lady America may change and I may do my job," he says politely.

"What's wrong? Why is she here?"

The man before me sighs. "It would seem that with the excitement of today, Lady America moved too much and simply loosened some of her stitches. Rest assured, she is perfectly safe and healthy. I only need to fix them up a bit." He pats my shoulder and leaves to retrieve whatever medical instruments he may require for this procedure. I hear steps approaching me and turn to see America standing before me.

"I'm fine, Maxon," she assures me softly, "I'm just having a bit of trouble getting these cuts to heal."

I nod sadly. "Alright. I'm sorry for intruding. I'll be on my way, I suppose," I say, giving America a quick peck on her forehead.

She gently grasps my hand and nods before letting go and closing the curtain around her cot.

* * *

America POV

Maxon leaves and I quickly change into the hospital gown I was provided by Doctor Ashlar.

The doctor returns with his medical kit and has my lie on my stomach on the cot.

I lay completely still as Doctor Ashlar removes the ruined stitches and sews me back up again. It hurts, obviously, but I was caned publicly with thirty lashes, something most people wouldn't be able to remain conscious for, and I'll be damned if I ever let something so minor as getting stitched up phase me ever again.

I've felt pain more intense than anything I've ever felt before.

And I'm never taking the little things for granted again.

* * *

**A/N: Forgiiivvveee meeee! I'm sorry about the ridiculously short chapter, but I felt that this was a decent stopping point and I was having trouble writing this week. Lack of inspiration I guess. Full disclaimer, I've never actually had stitches, so I'm not 100% sure they need to be replaced if they become loose and such. Sorry if there are any medical mistakes like that.**

**As always, thank you so much for reading and I'll see you next week. Stay awesome!**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**

**P.S. Just a reminder to be a _dear_ and check out plus review my newest story idea currently titled, _Well, This is New_. Alright, love you all, I'm done now.**


	10. Gunshot

Maxon POV

I wait patiently outside America's room for her to return from the infirmary. It's been nearly and hour since I left her with Doctor Ashlar, and I'm starting to get anxious. Is she alright? Were there any unexpected complications?

But I hear a lovely humming and know that my America is just around the corner.

She comes into view and smiles warmly when she sees me. "I wasn't expecting to see you until supper. To what do I owe this pleasure?" she says cheekily.

I have a sudden urge to kiss her, but I restrain myself. "Do I need a reason to visit the love of my life?" I reply smoothly.

America laughs. The sound makes my heart quicken a step. "I suppose not," she answers.

I offer my arm jokingly and we walk into her room. The doors to her balcony are open and letting fresh air in, and I smile.

But America freezes.

"Anne? Mary, Lucy?" she calls hesitantly.

My blood turns to ice as I realize the doors weren't left open for air.

A man, covered from head to toe in dirt and grime, steps into view with a smile.

"Well if it isn't the prince and his little pet," he drawls, stalking toward us.

I tuck America behind me and face the man, backing up as he advances. "What do you want?" I demand in my most authoritative voice. America is pressed into my back, and I can feel her hands quivering through my jacket.

The man lets out a barking laugh. "I want a lot of things, Your Highness, most of which you can only give me by dying." He draws a gun and shoots. I barely register myself being pushed out of the way.

In horror, I watch as America falls to the ground. Red blossoms from her torso, under her left breast.

It missed her heart.

I lunge at the man, knocking him to the ground before he can shoot again. I wrestle the gun from his hands and point it at his face.

"What are you going to do, Princey Boy? Shoot me? Are you going to kill me?" he leers. "Do it. It's me or her. Who's it gonna be?"

I hit him firmly in the temple with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious.

"Both," I hiss.

I rush to America and scream for help. There should be guards nearby.

Aspen bursts into the room and stumbles and falls to his knees when he sees America in front of him.

"Oh, God, no," he moans, stifling a sob. "No, no, no! America? Oh, God, please wake up."

I pick her up and command Officer Leger to rise. "Cover me. There could be more, and I need to get her to the hospital wing immediately."

I start running, America cradled safely in my arms, toward the infirmary.

We manage to get there without running into any more rebels. _Perhaps he was working alone?_

"Doctor Ashlar!" I yell, "Help! Help us, please!"

The doctor runs into the room and gasps when he sees America limp in my grasp.

"Quickly, put her on a cot," he orders.

He cuts away the fabric around the bullet wound and inspects it. He pushes his hand under America's back and feels around for a minute.

"Exit wound slightly lower than entrance wound," he mutters. His head shoots up and he yells over his shoulder. "She needs surgery immediately! Someone prepare an operation room!"

There's nothing we can do as Aspen and I watch America get carted away, neither of us sure if we'll ever see her again.

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter this week. It's been a weird day. I got home at like 11:30 at night after watching my mom and two of her siblings get tattoos. My eighteen-year-old aunt crushed my hand while she was getting hers. Obviously, it's no excuse, but I hope you all can understand and forgive me. Also, please don't kill me for the cliffhanger. It was a spur of the moment addition, and I kind of like the fact that America was the hero in this version. As always, thank you for reading, and please leave a review so I know what you guys think.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	11. Awake

**Eight weeks later**

Maxon POV

"America, you are my best friend and the love of my life. Please, wake up so that we can get married and have the life together that I've been dreaming of since I met you."

America's been in a coma for two months; medically-induced. I think the doctors started lowering her medication a couple of days ago. She'll be waking up within the next few days.

"They found Elise shortly after you went into surgery. She's perfectly okay and safe America. And I kept a secret from you. Marlee's here, America. She works in the kitchens, far away from my father. And Carter is here too. He's still recovering, but he'll work in the stables once he's fully healed and back to his old self. Celeste is being weirdly nice to all of the girls, and she's even come to visit you a few times. I think she's starting to see that kindness will get her everywhere in life."

Nothing.

"Kriss has been exceedingly kind and understanding. She knows that I'm in love with you, and that I can't see her as anything more than a close friend. I tried to call off the Selection, but Father is adamant that I keep the girls here. I sent Natalie home. Her sister passed away. Rebels. America, you're father is in bad condition. He's trying to hold on until you can go to see him. Father allowed it, and I'm working on getting him to let me join you. I want to see your home America. I want to see where you grew up."

I think I'm imagining it, but her fingers twitch. I grasp her hand and press her knuckles to my lips gently.

"When we're married, we'll get to go on a short trip to Carolina. It's tradition. After a Selection, the newlyweds visit the bride's home province and her old home. But I want to go sooner. And I want you to be able to say goodbye to your father in person. I know how much you love him and how much he loves you. Your older sister sent a letter for when you wake up. Her daughter was born a few weeks ago. Her name is Astra. Kenna sent pictures too. I must say, Astra is a very beautiful baby girl. May has written to me, demanding constant updates. We've become pen pals, almost. She wanted you to know that when they received word that you were hurt, Gerad immediately made up his mind and decided to pursue music, just like his big sister, America."

I feel a slight tightening of America's fingers around mine.

Desperation colors my voice as I breathe the next words:

"Come back to us, America."

A low moan rumbles at the back of my love's throat as her eyes flutter open. She looks up at me before closing her eyes again. A short grunt, and she's trying to move.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," I soothe, easing her back into her pillows. "You've been in a medically-induced coma for two months! Give yourself a minute to adjust."

America groans and tries to say something, but she's unable to force her lips to form any words. She taps my hand with her fingers, her eyes drooping.

"Ma… Maxon," she slurs. She stares up at me groggily. "I… wanna go… home."

I sigh. "I know, my dear, I know. As soon as you're well enough, you're going home to visit your father. He's not fairing too well. The stress of you getting shot made his heart condition get worse. America, I'm making sure he's getting the best treatment possible, but it doesn't look good."

America's eyes well up. "Daddy?" she asks.

"He's really sick, America. At this point, only his willpower is keeping him alive."

A few tears roll down America's cheeks, and I know she's awake now. Completely conscious and functioning.

And in a lot of pain, both physical and emotional.

* * *

**A/N: Shorter chapter this week, unfortunately. I'm sorry it's a little late. I'm also sorry to say that there will be no update next week due to my participation in a camp that will take up most of my time. It's only for a week, though, and I'll update as soon as possible. _Take Me Instead_ will be wrapping up in maybe 5-7 chapters, possibly less, and there's a small chance it will be more, but that's my estimate. As always, thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you all next week.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercivl13**

**P.S. Check e out on FictionPress! I write under the pen name Tove Harlow and have a new one-shot currently in the works.**


	12. AN BECAUSE I'M SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING

**Hiiiiii... so... I know it's been a long time, and I'm really sorry. I joined the marching band this year, and that took up a ton of time. I guess I've also just been uninspired lately... I sincerely apologize for keeping everyone waiting for so long, and I hope that when I update again, you all enjoy the newest chapter, even if it is late. And I know I promised a long chapter when I returned, but the lack of inspiration has been really difficult to work around, and the chapter will be shorter than I wanted it to be. For this I apologize, but I hope you enjoy my continuation of the story regardless. Thank you all so much for reading and supporting. And to all reviewers, your kind words really do fuel me and keep me pushing through the writers block just so that I can know that even for a second, I may have made someone's day a little better or just impacted someone across the country or even the world from me. I also think I'm going to start responding to reviews, or at least the questions and such. Thank you again. Thank you so much, and stay lovely.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


	13. Let's Go

**Wow, hi! It's been a minute! After approximately three months of hiatus, I am finally back! I'm trying not to get all gushy and stuff, but truly, thank you all so much for your love and support, and mostly, your patience. I don't want to ramble too much, so, without further ado, here's the latest chapter of _Take Me Instead_. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

America POV

I got out of the hospital after being in a coma for two months just three days ago, and I'm already getting ready to go home to visit my dying father. Maxon promised me that he was getting the best treatment possible, but it's not looking good.

I was told to select one maid to bring with me, and without a second thought, I chose Lucy. With Rebel Attacks going on left and right, I though a change of scenery might do her some good. And she might be the only one of my maids who loves May as much as I do. Anne and Mary adored her, but Lucy treated her like a sister more than a friend.

I finish changing into my faux-common clothes—the pair of jeans that Maxon gave me when he won our bet, and a silky blue blouse—and exit my room. All of my old clothes are still at home. No point in bringing anything.

I wander out of my room, just moseying through the palace aimlessly, when I find myself standing at the doors to the garden. I smile politely to the guards and step over the threshold. I take in a deep breath of fresh Angeles air, forgetting all of my troubles for a moment. But when I feel my back and side scream in resistance, that moment is ripped away from me. I cough, my lung giving me trouble. The left one collapsed when I got shot, and now sits, useless, in my chest.

I clear my throat and blink away the tears that are forming in my eyes from the sudden pain. I meander to me and Maxon's bench, the one where we met. I take a seat and reminisce for a few minutes until I feel someone walking up behind me.

A pair of hands gently covers my eyes and I smile. "Guess who," Maxon breathes in my ear.

I pull his hands away from my face and turn around. I stand and wrap my arms around his neck, relishing in his warmth and strength and just the safety I feel when I'm around him.

"Only the love of my life," I breath.

"How are you feeling, darling?" he asks gently, easing me back to my feet and guiding me to sit on the bench.

"Like a million bucks," I joke.

Maxon eyes me with poorly concealed skepticism and amusement.

"Okay. I feel like maybe thirty-two cents and half a peanut butter sandwich, but I'm getting closer to a million bucks every day," I confess.

"Well, I suppose that's the best I could ask for at this point," Maxon sighs. "Are you… ready to go home? Are you prepared to make that trip?"

I fight the swelling in my throat and the heat behind my eyes."I'm ready.I need to say goodbye properly or I'll never forgive myself.I need to see my dad."


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

America POV

I never thought this day would actually come. I stand at the doors to the grand hall, struggling not to touch my face or my hair. My white dress hugs my torso and flares out elegantly at my hips, fading from white to a magnificent powder blue. The veil pinned to the crown of my head makes my head feel heavy on my shoulders.

I got to see my father. I got to say goodbye. I got to meet my beautiful niece, Astra. And now I get to marry Maxon.

Just a few months ago… there was another, far more brutal attack on the palace. Both the king and queen were killed.

Now Maxon is king, and, in just a few hours, I will be his queen.

My mother fusses over me and then gives me one last kiss on my cheek before walking through the doors with my sisters and Gerad. I look up at Aspen.

"Thank you," I whisper. I wouldn't have anyone else walk me down the aisle, save for my father.

Aspen smiles softly down at me. "Anything for my best friend," he says. "I'm sorry it couldn't be your father walking you down the aisle today, but I'm honored you chose me."

"I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have with me today."

Aspen grins and pats my hand as I wrap it through his arm. The doors open and I see _him_.

My Maxon. My Prince Charming. My love.

And I just know:

_Everything is exactly as it's meant to be._

* * *

**OKAY! This is it, you guys. This is the last chapter. I just wanted to take this time to thank every single person who read and reviewed, as well as apologize for how long it took for me to finish this. But we made it. Leave a review letting me know what your favorite part of the story was, and as always, thank you SO much for reading, and I'll catch you on the flip side.**

**With love,**

**StormcloudPercival13**


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